Those Silly Monitors
by Poecile
Summary: Beyond these silly monitors, those people are real. Sure, they're part of some stupid fabricated universe of the experiment, but they're real people. Tris and Tobias are real, and even when they finally have privacy off of the cameras, like now as they ride the train to Amity, they exist. They cry and laugh, love and hurt, believe and persevere. (One-shot)


AN: While rounding up the plot bunnies for the blurb on my profile, this one hopped over to me. Since it seemed like something that could work well as a one-shot, I decided to give it a try.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Divergent series or any of its characters.

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**Those Silly Monitors**

"Drop your weapon."

"Tobias, you're in a simulation."

"Drop your weapon… Or I'll fire."

I watch with rapt attention as Tris bends down to put her gun on the ground. My breathing is loud against the silence of the bureau control room, and I suddenly realize my mouth is half-open as I stare at the screen in front of me. I close it immediately.

"Drop the weapon!"

"I did."

I bite my lips nervously as the scene plays out before me. All I can think is that Tris can't die. She can't. Because it would be too terrible if she dies in the hands of the boy she likes.

I glance at Jim and Tammi who are sitting a few feet away from me, watching the chaos of Chicago on the screens. Their expressions are listless, but otherwise neutral – as if they are not witnessing hundreds of people die by the hands of hundreds of other people who are being mind-controlled. Jim always reminds me to be impartial because we're supposed to be neutral observers of the experiment. But I don't understand how he does it.

I turn back in time just as Tris grabs Tobias' wrist and he pulls the trigger but misses her head by an inch. My gasp joins a collective one, the one from the few individuals who are sitting on the benches outside of our circle of monitors and are watching the screens facing outwards.

Tris and Tobias are fighting in the Dauntless control room, both trying to reach for the fallen gun and gain the upper hand. Even though I don't believe in God, I find myself praying and hoping they're going to be fine. As Tris picks up the gun and points it at Tobias, all I can think is, _please don't shoot_.

"Tobias, I know you're in there somewhere."

Through the few weeks that I've been here, I've watched Tris and her friends through initiation. I watched, because that's my job, as Tris struggles and grows, and falls in love with her instructor. It's strange to think I don't truly know her, yet I admire her for her bravery and her selflessness. I empathize with her despite not fully understanding what she's going through.

I can't imagine what it's like to kill your friend, watch your parents die, and fight to the death with your boyfriend all in one day. I can't. But the thought makes me want to cry.

"Tobias, please. Please. See me. …Please see me, Tobias, please!"

The desperation of Tris' situation makes my heart ache. I gasp again as she unexpectedly turns the gun around and hands it to Tobias.

_Oh my god…_

My hands wring nervously when Tobias presses the gun against Tris' forehead and clicks the bullet into place, readying for the shot.

_Please don't shoot, please don't shoot, please don't shoot…_

"Tobias, it's me."

A tear slips from my eye as Tris wraps her arms around the boy holding her at gun point, because it's all just so sad and so unfair.

_Please wake up, Tobias…_

And as if my prayers are answered, Tobias suddenly drops the gun and holds Tris at arm's length.

"Tris."

I let out a sob as he kisses her, because it's so sad but so beautiful. He recognizes her, he sees her, and maybe, just maybe, they won't have to die today.

I sniff obnoxiously, not caring that Tammi is giving me a disapproving look or that Jim might be reprimanding me later. All I care about, as I watch Tris and Tobias stop the Dauntless simulation, is that they're alive, and they're going to save all those Abnegations from dying and those Dauntless from being mindless murderers.

I wipe my tears with the sleeve of my shirt. I must look immature to my superiors—like some childish fangirl of an action-romance movie. Oh well, I don't care. At least I'm not a heartless scientist like them.

But… what am I then?

Around the room, members at the benches whisper quietly at the turn of events. They're happy and relieved, just as I am. Am I like them? Just watching the city as if it's a movie?

A darker part of my mind taunts that I am, but I wish it's not true.

_It's not, right?_

Beyond these silly monitors, those people are real. Sure, they're part of some stupid fabricated universe of the experiment, but they're real people. Tris and Tobias are real, and even when they finally have privacy off of the cameras, like now as they ride the train to Amity, they exist. They cry and laugh, love and hurt, believe and persevere.

And I can't help but root for their happily ever after.

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AN: I'm not sure this was actually what I was thinking about when this idea popped up but in _The Girl Who Was on Fire _(in which different authors analyzed various aspects of The Hunger Games trilogy), Carrie Ryan wrote:

"In the end, if there is one truth that can be taken away from the Hunger Games it is this: we, the reader, tuned in and boosted its rating. Even while Katniss rails against the Games as disgusting and barbaric, we the readers turn the pages in order to watch them. We become the citizens in the Capitol, glued to the television, ensuring there will be another Game the following year."

I always thought this connection of the readers as the HG viewers of Panem was interesting. I guess this story kind of stems from that idea. People in the bureau are constantly watching Tris (and the rest of Chicago) and in some way, it relates to how we, as readers, are also silent observers of Tris' universe.

So…yes, I made a bureau scientist/worker into a Fourtris fangirl. (:


End file.
